


A Dream Within a Dream - Teaser Chapter

by naturesinmyeye



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Drama, F/M, Mental Health Issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-06
Updated: 2015-08-06
Packaged: 2018-04-13 06:56:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 939
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4512237
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/naturesinmyeye/pseuds/naturesinmyeye
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alayne is real. Sansa Stark is not. Or is it the other way around? Alayne survives, strong behind the walls of Westeros, dreaming of her Hound. Sansa Stark lies in a mental ward of a hospital, visited by a man who calls himself Sandor. Who is real and who is not? Can one survive without the other? </p><p>“Yet if hope has flown away<br/>In a night, or in a day,<br/>In a vision or in none,<br/>Is it therefore the less gone?<br/>All that we see or seem<br/>Is but a dream within a dream.” – Edgar Allen Poe</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Dream Within a Dream - Teaser Chapter

Alayne Stone bowed her head in prayer at the foot of her bed. Eyes shut tight and fingers clasped, she thanked the many Gods for giving her another day of life. Praying for her family, her poor dead, lost family; a single tear ran down her cheek.  She continued on in silent reflection, praying for all, good or bad. Those who had wronged her and those who had saved her. And then she prayed for _him_. Where ever he was, she sent out a call to the one who had saved her more than any other. The one who had opened her eyes and her heart.

 

_Little Bird . . ._

 

Alayne gasped and opened her eyes. She was alone. She was always alone. No matter how close she thought him, he was never there. Not anymore. Hanging her head in sadness, she crawled up into the bed, covering herself with three layers of furs and breathing deeply of their scent. I wonder if this is what a Hound smells like, she thought, as she drifted off to sleep. She liked to dream. Sometimes he would speak to her, there, beneath the moon. Sometimes she could still see him, _touch_ him.

 

Tonight she whimpered in her sleep. Tonight she dreamt of her.

 

_Sansa . . ._

No, that wasn’t right. She was Alayne. Sansa was dead. Dead and gone like all the rest of her family. Alayne trembled in the darkness of her dream. She wanted out. She wanted flowers and meadows and a dog at her side.

 

_Sansa . . ._

 

“Let me be!” Alayne cried. “I don’t want this dream!” There was light somewhere far off. If she could reach it, maybe she could wake and leave the dream.

 

Alayne sat upright, quickly with her heart racing. Her eyes were blurred with tears.

 

“There she is. There’s the blue eyes,” a voice rasped nearby. Alyane jumped, startled that his voice should be so close and feel so real. “It’s good to see you up, darlin’” the voice, harsh yet warm, told her.

 

“H-Hound?” Alanye spoke, teeth chattering from the dream.

 

“That’s not my name,” the rasp said sadly. “What’s my name? Come on. You know it.”

 

“She’s still confused. She’s been like this for days,” a woman’s voice spoke. “I was hoping you’d snap her out of it. She always seems better with you around. But this is the worst she’s ever been.”

 

“Arya?” Alayne choked, rubbing at her eyes to clear away her tears.

 

“I’m right here, sis,” Arya’s voice said soothingly.

 

Alayne screamed when she finally saw the room she was in. The stone walls of Winterfell were gone. Now there were pale green slabs all around. Strange, bulky items clung to the ceiling. Light came from them, dim and haunting. Arya was there. At least her face and frame were. Her clothes were so strange! She was wearing breeches and a shirt cut so low it wasn’t even fit for a whore to wear! There were odd, metal looking items all around her, buzzing and coughing out sounds she’d never heard before. The bed she was in had metal grating on the sides. Shaking in panic Alayne began to cry all over again. This dream was the worst yet! Arya was there, and the Hound too, but they were denying her. They weren’t right. They weren’t real!

 

“Sansa, lass, calm down You’re alright,” the man tried to calm her, putting his massive hands on her shoulders. He looked like the Hound. His voice was the same gravel with just a hint of brogue. The eyes were the right shade of gray and the burns could belong to no other. But he was dressed just as strangely as Arya was. His dark hair was too short and his beard non existent. He looked younger as well!

 

“That’s not my name! That’s not my name!” Alayne started to call out hysterically. “Sansa’s dead! She’s dead! She’s not me, she’s not me, she’s not me,” she sobbed while the Hound captured her face in his hands.

 

“Who am I?” he growled. Alayne twisted her face held within a grasp stronger than should be humanly possible. She sought out Arya for help but now there was a blonde in the room, tall and dressed all in white, save for a single blue ribbon tied in her hair. Arya was focused on the woman, talking about things that made no sense to her at all.

 

“Who am I?”

 

The question was repeated from the man she thought she knew.

 

“The Hound!” Alyane wailed, not knowing what else he wanted from her.

 

And then there were hands on the Hound’s shoulders. Men were pulling him back and away from her. He had frightened her but she found herself beyond terrified now that his hands had been removed from her skin. It had been the only thing that seemed real. They all kept calling her Sansa and she knew it wasn’t her! It couldn’t be her. Sansa Stark was dead. Dead and gone just like all the rest of her family. But Arya was there now. They weren’t all gone. There was a tiny prick of pain in her arm. There were tears in the Hound’s eyes. Arya stood at the foot of her bed.

 

“You’ll feel better when you wake, sis, I promise,” her sister assured, voice wavering.  Alayne felt her eyes grow heavy. The Hound had stepped closer, kneeling at her bedside, now that she had stopped thrashing. It seemed like such an effort to try and lift her arms. Gray eyes looked at her pleadingly.

 

“Who am I?” he whispered.

 

“ . . .Sandor?’ Sansa slurred before succumbing to sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> Just a teaser for now to get the idea out of my head and the creative juices flowing. It's going to be a while before this one gets serious attention. I need to finish The Best Laid Plans and read more of the books so I have a better understanding of Sansa/Alayne. 
> 
> Please let me know what you think!


End file.
